


Five times Genma asked, "Why me?" (and one time he yelled, "My phone!")

by KakaSakuMuses



Category: Naruto
Genre: Gen, Genma week 2020
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:15:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25322257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KakaSakuMuses/pseuds/KakaSakuMuses
Summary: Genma was a normal guy with a normal life. But there's something about him that nobody knows yet.He hates it when vigilantes drop criminals tied up at his feet.Yet they keep doing it anyway.
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi & Shiranui Genma, Shiranui Genma/Shizune
Comments: 3
Kudos: 21
Collections: GenmaWeekend2020





	1. Barter in the Bar

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for [Genma Week](https://genmaweek.tumblr.com) day 1 prompt 1: Party
> 
> This AU was inspired by [Pink's](https://thatpinkshinobi.tumblr.com) AMAZING [ANBU art](https://thatpinkshinobi.tumblr.com/post/623408069569888256/goon-squad-do-not-repost-without-permission)—go check her out!

Glasses—empty and full—claimed every free spot on the table Genma was at. To celebrate his birthday, he had invited a few friends to celebrate at their local bar. After catching up with friendly chats, Asuma had dug out a stack of cards and suggested they would make the night more interesting.

Genma knew that with his luck this week, he shouldn’t have joined in. As it were, he had ended up with the most cards after their third game of riding the bus to hell.

The bastard didn’t even look apologetic when Genma had to ride the bus from the start for the fucking _fifth time_.

“In between or outside?”

Genma stared at his seven of clovers and his nine of diamonds. “Outside.”

When Asuma smacked the seven of clubs on the table, Genma was ready to smack that card too.

“Of course it’s a fucking seven of clubs,” he muttered.

(Other people would unanimously agree that Genma yelled it.)

“Back to the start you go!”

Whether it was because Kakashi wanted to be a jackass to everybody at the table or because Kakashi took pity on him, Kakashi swiped all of the cards off the table.

(Asuma was decidedly distracted because he yelled, “This is my nice stack of cards!” before diving under the table.)

Kakashi took the vacated seat. “You seem to be in an unusually foul mood. Did something happen?”

“Only every day for the past week or so.”

Since Kakashi paid no interest in his misfortunes, Genma felt inclined to punch him with it anyway.

“I’ve had to call the cops four times this week and the second time I did, I saw one of the cops write my name down as _Vigilante Complex_.”

“That’s–” Kakashi pushed his full shot glass away–“interesting. Why would they say you have a vigilante complex?”

Even though Genma had had plenty to drink already, he reached for another one. “Because for the second time in a row I called the police to tell them to pick up the trash they left behind, only to learn they didn’t tie them up.”

Genma ignored the bemused look that crossed Kakashi’s face.

(Kakashi could only wonder why the cops didn’t take Genma’s name as _Garbage Master_.)

“The thing is, the police were looking for every single one of those pricks.”

“I’m sure the police were very happy when you showed them the packaging of missing donuts,” Kakashi said seriously.

(Not that Genma is a good judge of anything at the moment. He wasn’t exaggerating when he said his luck this week was shit.)

“Not packaging, dumbass, criminals! Why else would someone get the nickname _Vigilante Complex_?”

“Because you dressed up as Batman?” Anko grinned.

To let his comeback sink in, Genma took his time.

(Everyone else knew it was the booze that caused the delay.)

“Yeah, and you’re dressed like a pineapple.”

“Are the police looking for vigilantes or something?” Kakashi cut in before Genma or Anko could start a verbal throwdown.

At that moment, Asuma triumphantly returned from underneath the other side of the table with his “nice” cards and started pulling Kurenai, Shizune, Raidou, Gai and Anko into a game of Toepen. It was a mercy that Genma was kept out of it for one round.

“How do you even accidentally find criminals on four different occasions?” Kakashi prompted, seemingly bored now that Asuma has cut Kakashi off from playing after the mistreatment of the cards.

“I don’t know, man.”

“How many are we talking about?”

(Genma missed how Kakashi had stopped sipping any drink.)

“Seven people? When I called the cops because this person was handcuffed to my balcony–”

“A balcony, huh?”

Genma didn’t care that Kakashi wasn’t paying any attention and only repeating stuff to create the illusion that he was listening. Shizune had laughed in his face every time he brought it up and Kakashi, godbless, didn’t say, “That sounds like a great story to tell at parties.”

“ _My_ balcony. I looked forward to a day of doing absolutely nothing and then a criminal crashed into my life to ruin it.”

“In my opinion, that should be a crime.”

Genma looked Kakashi straight in the eyes as he took a big gulp of his beer. “You’re laughing now, but just wait until they get you.”

The grin Kakashi gave him was false. “Until who gets me?”

“You know who.” After a dramatic pause, Genma set his beer glass down. “The vigilantes wearing complete black and animal inspired masks.”

Kakashi’s reaction wasn’t the same as Shizune’s had been, but it could have been. “Can’t say I’ve heard of them.”

“You can’t hear them,” Genma said, “because they are as silent as the night.”

It was only for a split second, but in Genma’s alcoholic clarity, he could feel that he had reeled Kakashi in.

“Legend has it–”

“For the third time, Genma, it’s not a legend!” Shizune said with the same veracity she used as she rapped the table.

The only reason Genma didn’t sulk was because she gave him a cheeky wink.

“Every time I found those people tied up, there was no one who could have tied them up. All but one time.”

“Who did you see?”

“Three people. Two with light hair and one with a hood on. I blinked once and they were parkouring up the wall like some monkey. They’d be even better at climbing a tree than a monkey.”

Genma’s attention slipped as Shizune cried out in victory. Whereas he had had a week filled with bad luck and accidents and a lot of people staring at him as if he had stepped right out of a cartoon, Shizune had been on a roll this week.

That was a good thing, because Genma wouldn’t know how he could have survived all this without her support. Even if she laughed at him half of the time he talked about it. Kakashi had been silent for too long to continue the conversation, but like anything time-related, he ignored social conventions. “Are you sure it wasn’t your imagination?”

Genma nearly knocked an empty glass over but grabbed a hold of it before it could hit the table. _Lady misfortune: zero. Genma: one_. “I’m not creative enough to dream up that shit. Besides, I have things they left behind at the scenes but the cops wouldn’t do anything with.”

Reaching for his bag, Genma felt betrayed that it was on the other side next to the table. If he had had a beer or two less to drink, he would have remembered to just get up and seize it. For now, he settled for taking another sip of beer out of frustration.

Kakashi stared at the table for some reason. Perhaps Kakashi was contemplating what _he_ would do if three vigilantes dropped bound criminals at his feet tonight.

(In reality, Kakashi was staring at something other than the table.)

It was a few seconds or a few hours, but Kakashi pulled out his phone and started typing.

With a roll of his eyes, Genma started paying attention to his girlfriend beating everyone else of their party of friends.

Nobody paid any attention to Kakashi as his phone rang and he excused himself for a second and nobody was surprised when Kakashi didn’t return to the party.

(He still liked to push the bill on other people, after all.)

An hour later, Genma and Shizune got ready to head home. Genma grabbed his bag from under the table and got up while Shizune laughed and joked again about attracting people with bad luck. If it were any other week, Genma would not have had to think back to this evening.

As he would find out the following morning, the bag he grabbed was _not_ his own. The only words he could muster early in the morning as he stared forlornly at the bag that did not hold his phone was, “Why me?”


	2. Glued to the Spot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, we will jump back in time to see how Genma's awful week started! Have fun reading it!
> 
> The prompt used for this chapter was from Day 1 prompt 2: **Bonds**. Find the other prompts at [the official Genma Week Tumblr](https://genmaweek.tumblr.com/)!

The smell of glue pricked Genma’s nose when he walked along those obnoxiously colored walls. Why small kids always smelled of glue, snot and grape juice (and more glue) was beyond him. Shizune’s description of the teacher’s class he had to find didn’t help a damn thing. Bright orange? _Everything_ was an eyesore. He couldn’t blame her for mixing up her student’s file with another child’s of this supposedly orange teacher. After all, any kid smelled the same and was incapable of staying in one spot long enough for anyone to identify them. Right before a parents-teacher conference ranked fairly high for “worst time to lose a folder.”

Turning a corridor, Genma stumbled into what would happen if a monster regurgitated a ginormous amount of cheetos and he had to blink twice to clean his vision from the spots that suddenly appeared there.

“That’s bright orange, okay,” he mumbled, noting the little fox drawings and… ramen? Actually, no, he wouldn’t judge. After all, Shizune had a wall with illustrations of venomous plants and her class mascot was a knitting skeleton.

He rapped his knuckles on the door and received a very enthusiastic, “Come in!” after what sounded like a lot of shuffling.

“Hey, Shizune asked me to get some child’s misplaced file?” The face of the man who he presumed was the teacher could fit right in with his earlier description of childish energy. Why he almost jumped in his seat at a parent-teacher meeting was a mystery.

“Oh yes! So many things were happening that I wrongly grabbed little Timmy’s file instead of Tommy’s!” He looked for a colored folder in the mountain of paperwork on his table while Genma’s eyes got pulled to the other objects in screaming colors. A lot of hand painted drawings were hanging down the ceiling and a big cardboard frog (with layers and layers of paper bonded to it with glue) was propped against the wall at the back, wobbling with the draft from the wide open windows.

“Every time those conferences come around, Shizune is running from one place to another and losing things left and right too.” He accepted the green folder and in exchange he got a, not surprisingly, orange one.

“Oh yeah, the parents conference, that’s what I was talking about–” Genma jolted as he heard a loud noise echoing through the room–“ouch! Okay!” the blond exclaimed and Genma decided that he wasn’t paid enough kisses from Shizune to deal with this.

“I gotta go deliver this before the parents show up, thanks…?”

“Naruto!” The guy even had child dimples, unbelievable. “Nice to meet ya!”

When he left the brightly colored class in which only kids—and this child dressed up as a teacher—can live without a pounding migraine, he passed near a group of parents and couldn’t avoid hearing their conversation.

“Who names their kid Pacoon?!” mom number one asked with a judgmental face.

“Young graying hippies married to pink haired ladies.” Wow, with parents like that, no wonder Shizune came back mad some days. He knew one white haired slouched who dressed like a hippie, but this one he was sure would never marry—after all, he would need to leave his tomb for that—much less to a pink haired woman.

“I have no idea what that nice gentleman was doing with them! He does know what is a normal kid's name! I hope he and his little Danzo come to the soccer club like he said they would.”

Genma snorted. With more veer in his step, he headed for the pastel colored classroom of Shizune. If he stuck around listening to these parents any longer, his own bitch-mode would float to the surface and he didn’t have the brainpower to get involved in playground politics.

Genma weaved his way through the bundles of parents cliqued together in all parts of the hallways—this time he put in extra effort to keep moving past the chatter until he was finally at Shizune’s door.

He knocked twice at the door, a grin already on his face before Shizune had even fully turned around from the other side of the room. “Delivery for the lady.”

In Shizune’s defense, she really did try to reach Genma, but with every step she took toward him, a parent suddenly remembered an urgent question that could not wait for _five seconds longer_ —and it was either second or first nature for his girlfriend to help wherever she could. So after the third parent interrupted her path, Genma saw that her mind was already on the next task ahead of her.

Within seconds of her finishing answering the next parent, he strode to her side and planted a soft kiss on her cheek while pushing the folder into her hand. “Good luck. See you tonight,” he whispered in her ear.

He’d seen her at enough conferences to know that she wouldn’t have the time to reply. He’d seen enough _parents_ to know he wanted to get the hell out of here. Taking the shortest route, he made his escape to the front of the school.

Pushing open the door to get in the fresh air quicker, Genma stepped out of the building with no idea how chaotic his week would become.

Since fate couldn’t let it stand that Genma lived in ignorance, a sharp whistle sounded from somewhere above him.

For a few seconds, it seemed Genma would get the hint as he stopped moving, lifted his head to the sky and stood still. But with anything fate-related, it was too vague and multi-interpretational. He put the school behind him and forgot the whistle just as quickly as a child forgot it had glue on their hands.

* * *

After his shift at work was over, Genma took a detour to the grocery store. A day like this one had Shizune run all over the place and only after she sat down at home would she remember she hadn’t eaten anything for the last couple of hours. As Genma was used to the beast that his usually calm girlfriend turned into each time she was hungry, he already knew what to do.

So, Genma was going to cook her favorite meal: brown rice. It was something that baffled Genma to this day, but it was his girlfriend’s favorite food, so they ate it regularly for… Had they really been together for four years already?

Heading to the grocery store mentally checking what he would need to buy, he never realized the shadows following him.

He didn’t see the shadows as he crossed the streets.

He didn’t see the people leaping on the building as he went in and out the grocery store.

He didn’t realize anyone was with him in the park he walks through until fate dropped a hint that could not be misinterpreted.

Literally.

Genma had stared at the river for no longer than a second, but when he wanted to continue his shortcut through the park to his car—he could see the bridge he needed to cross!—he couldn’t move another step.

No, really, there was someone wriggling on his left foot and his other foot was getting tangled in red ribbon—

Genma tipped over a comically wrapped person in a red cloth.

The sequence of swear words his mouth decided to throw was only surpassed by the one the bound guy was able to spit out after Genma’s trip. If it were at any other time, Genma and the other person would have instantly bonded over their mistreatment of language.

“Look where you’re going, _asshole_! Do you simply go around _fucking_ kicking everyone you see? As if those masked _fuckers_ didn’t delay me enough. I have my cult to go to!” Genma rolled off the jackass, but his mouth kept running. “I need to fucking help people strengthen their bonds with Jashin.”

Words failed Genma at seeing this. Honestly, the rice had more thoughts than him at this moment. He could only sigh and think, _Why me?_ He looked forlornly to the groceries and just knew his night was now ruined and Shizune would chew his ass out of hunger. And they would both mourn his fine ass in the bedroom.

“Hey _asshole_ , are you listening?!”

“Why me?” Genma muttered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We had plenty of fun writing this. Thank you for reading!


	3. I'm in Pain and it feels Bad, Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genma had decided he deserved some rest after the days he had before, so he took a day off. Just like superheroes can't take a day off from saving the world, Genma can't have a free day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! This was written for Genma Weekend 2020 for the first prompt of day two: Free Day. Enjoy the words, because we enjoyed typing them!

It was a rare occasion that Genma had a day when he had to do absolutely nothing. Nada. _Zilch_.

Every other day, he would get up with his girlfriend when her alarm blared from her phone. Today, he got a kiss on his forehead and a loving ruffle of his hair before he traveled back to the land of dreams, which was nice until an obnoxious noise woke him out of a weird dream where he was trying to balance a giant needle on his tongue. Even years after he quit, Shizune’s rant about how there isn’t much difference between a cigarette and sticking a needle in your mouth had stuck in his mind.

He rolled over in the large bed, borrowing Shizune’s pillow to drown out the noise. It was a regular occurrence that his elderly neighbor began vacuuming or redecorating the room before eight o’clock. The few times she had knocked on their door, holding cookies she had baked herself and to hold a friendly chat with them, the neighbor never failed to give him homesickness and cure it at the same time.

A bonk louder than the neighbor had ever produced cut through his last remains of sleep. It was not dissimilar to the sound of a cat having misjudged a jump and landing on Shizune’s plants (or having judged their jump with accuracy and precision because those cats hated her plants). Genma would recognize that sound anywhere because, unfortunately, this wasn’t his first rodeo nor would it be his last.

This meant that Genma would have to get up if he wanted to be a good boyfriend.

Genma wasn’t ready to come face to face with the likely newest and chunkiest addition to the cat family their neighbor was insistent on expanding.

_Thump_.

He half-rolled, half-fell out of the bed and made a noise that would have had Shizune roll her eyes at him for.

(It was a groan made up of an endless stream of variants of the word fuck.)

(A stream that became more enunciated when he stubbed his toe on the door frame. Today was not his day.)

Genma shoved open the glass door with more force than was necessary and looked at the mess at their balcony.

The good news: the cat hadn’t landed on or pushed over Shizune’s plants. All were still in pristine condition.

The bad news.

The orange hair he saw did not belong to a cat.

“What the fuck are you doing on my balcony?!”

Having flashes of his dream, he wished he had a needle to spit at the dude chilling on _his balcony_.

“Please,” the orange wheezed, “I don’t want to cause any trouble—I mean any _more_ trouble.”

Genma pinched the bridge of his nose. If it weren’t for the pain throbbing his pinkie toe, he would have known he were sleeping. If Shizune were here, she would have known how to make sense of the orange’s words.

After all, she dealt with mini-humans that were still learning words and how to put them together.

Shizune would have had the tact to get at the heart of the situation with words.

“I’m…pain,” the guy wheezed.

“Who the fuck calls himself “Pain”?” Genma couldn’t believe this was happening to him! He just wanted a morning to sleep until late and wake up to eat breakfast at lunch time. Was that too much to ask?

“No… _in_ pain.”

“What are you—wait, how are you handcuffed to my balcony?”

“Please,” the man said again, as if that would tell Genma all he wanted to know.

Genma just sighed. As if the police didn’t already have a note with “slightly insane” next to his number for how many situations he had to call about, now was the time for them to whip out more empty post-its to fill.

If Genma had the tools or the skills to free someone from a handcuff without needing the keys only the police had, he would have picked it in a heartbeat. Sure, he would have complained loudly about it while sawing through the chain. Sure, he would have felt silly while using one of Shizune’s bobby pins to unlock the cuffs.

If he had just gone to the store for that saw or immersed himself in YouTube tutorials, he wouldn’t have had to do… this.

“Hello, this is Shiranui Genma speaking. I have found a person handcuffed to my balcony.”

“ _Sir, we are a police station. Please keep the things you do in the bedroom to yourself_.”

Genma sighed. The police officer on the other side sighed. The only person who didn’t was the man Genma wouldn’t even want in his bedroom.

Even with his budding reputation, he never got the nice officers on the phone.

“This is not some kinky shit. There is a man handcuffed to my balcony with police issued handcuffs.”

Could he hear an eye-roll through the phone? Because Genma was sure he just did.

It was his free day, damn it!

“Do I have to point out that it is your duty to take any report seriously, officer, or do I have to call my colleagues at the law firm?”

It was with his lawyer composure that he didn’t threaten them with all he got.

(In reality, his toe shot pain through his foot and he had to stop talking so he could keep his composure.)

“ _My apologies, Mr. Shiranui,” they said in an immediately faker voice. “If you give me the address, I will make sure two officers will make their way to you_.”

After rattling the address, Genma hung up.

When he stared at the man handcuffed to the fucking balcony housing most of Shizune’s plants, Genma felt pity for the first time that morning.

There wasn’t enough pity for Genma to offer the man coffee, but he could grant the man the same courtesy Shizune lent to the other inhabitants of the balcony.

Water.

_That_ was as far as Genma was willing to go on his day off.

Something in him, however, saw an opportunity to get more info on what the hell was happening to Genma that, on a daily basis, a supposed criminal got dropped at his feet. His eyes were burning and his mind was not set for any conversation, but he would beat himself up later if he didn’t even try.

“So, how did you end up here?”

“Please, I don’t want any trouble.”

His day off was supposed to be a day free of lawyer stuff. Nonetheless, the words found their way out of his head. “The police can’t arrest you unless they have a good reason to. Just because someone handcuffed you doesn’t mean the police can throw you in jail.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. If they have nothing else to pin you on, I bet you’ll be free by the end of the day at the latest.” This conversation would be going so much easier if he could offer the guy a smoke. Nothing puts people more at ease than a shared smoking break between two fellas.

Shizune would argue there are tons of better things, but she isn’t here at the moment.

“So, who did this to you?”

“They were shadows.” The man shuddered and gulped down half his water. “Animals.”

He wanted to say, “Animals don’t have opposable thumbs,” but instead he simply repeated the word.

“Masks. Everything was black except their animal masks.”

“How many people did you see?”

The orange was as silent as the fruit was, so Genma decided the nickname fit him well.

It was just as he turned to lie down on the sofa that the man mumbled, “Two,” and made sure to keep away from eye-contact.

Two vigilantes. Genma knew there were at least three, all dressed in black. He hadn’t seen their faces, but he had seen a glimpse of red on their feet. It wasn’t enough to figure out the identities, but he was closer now to figuring out whose ass he would have to kick for ruining his week.

For ruining his reputation.

For ruining Shizune’s potted plants.

(Although Genma would only get to add that to the list long after the orange had left the building.)

And worst of all, for ruining his day off, starting with his well deserved nap.

With no further conversation in sight, Genma got stuck in a cycle of staring at the simple clock on the wall and looking at every other part of the room.

The large arrow of the clock crept past number after number with no sign of the police arriving. The closer the arrow came to the five, the more Genma started pacing in his own home.

(The arrow got a personal record when it hit the number eight when it shouldn’t have gotten past the five.)

The doorbell rang. Genma swung open the door with more force than needed. He said, “Finally,” with more force than needed.

“We came here like a bat out of hell, man.”

It was too early in the morning for idioms he had never heard before and the second officer had a smirk plastered on his face that he didn’t trust for one second.

Even if the cops were acting professionally and the orange was freed swiftly, Genma’s mood turned foul when he saw the cop scribbled in his notebook after Genma told him his name. It was too unclear to make out, but the first name was too long to really be _Genma_. It wouldn’t surprise him if it was once again _Vigilante Complex_.

Just as Genma was prying into their personal items, the officers did the same. “You’ve got a lot of plants here.”

“Yeah.”

Undeterred by his short answer, the one with the notebook asked far too casually, “Is there any poison ivy?”

“Why are you asking?”

“Curiosity.” The smile on the officer’s face practically split his face. “Aren’t you curious too, Officer Gordon?”

Genma had read enough comic books to catch on to what was happening. The bat comment. The poison ivy. An officer coincidentally named Gordon. _Vigilante Complex_. He pinched the bridge of his nose to keep from making an outburst, but that only seemed to fuel the officers even more.

“Are you like this with everybody that has a smile on their face? People’d think you can’t take a joke, sir.”

This was not happening. Did a police officer just butcher his pronunciation of “Sir” to make a _Joker_ pun? Genma had standards. These police officers didn’t meet any of them.

(The police officers came to regret their bad puns, but for some reason it was kept off any records so Genma was unable to share his narration of it for us.)

(The reason isn’t Genma. It’s difficult lawyer stuff. Genma smacked down the law in a way that words can’t do justice, so you will have to take our word for it that was epic.)

With the police officers and the orange out of his house, Genma put his head on the balcony’s railing and looked to the sides.

“Why me?” he asked Shizune’s plants.

Genma was reminded not to ask questions he didn’t want an answer to, because a cat promptly crashed into one of Shizune’s potted holly plants.

He called it a win that no second cat fell out of the skies after he again muttered, “Why _me_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I have no idea how police officers and lawyers and stuff work, I only know how to create hilarity with cats in a story! -Thalia
> 
> Thank you for reading until the end of the chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> We hope you enjoyed the first part! We have an outline for the other five parts so hopefully those will be finished in time for the Genma weekend!


End file.
